


Magic Doesn't Play Around

by satiricalScythe



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Because I can't think of a better tag without spoiling it, Blood, Hurt/Comfort, I don't really think it earns a graphic depictions of violence tag, M/M, Post-Canon, Temporary Character Death, Y'all didn't really think I could do it to 'em did you, but I will warn that some violence is implied, ineffable husbands, lemme know if you think i should add the warning, what's a beta reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 15:43:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19930501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satiricalScythe/pseuds/satiricalScythe
Summary: A magical item brings Aziraphale's worst fears to life.





	Magic Doesn't Play Around

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to the twitter peeps.

Aziraphale's heart raced as he stared at the sight before him. This wasn't real. This couldn't be happening. He had seen Crowley just yesterday and he had been in perfect health.

But the wide, blank golden eyes staring at him from the floor could only belong to one person.

The angel choked back a sob, reaching for the demon, but no miracle could bring him back. The cuts and burns decorating Crowley's form had done their job, and the wound through his chest (holy water, his brain supplies, only holy water could have made it look like that) ensured that even a new body wouldn't bring him back.

Crowley was _gone._

Aziraphale wasn't sure why he had been sent here, but he could only imagine that it was a warning. The angel had been in his shop, examining a necklace he had happened upon when Crowley had appeared on his floor. He had said one word - "Angel," said with such softness and relief that recalling it broke Aziraphale - before collapsing to the floor. It didn't take a doctor to know that this wasn't just disincorporation.

Crowley was well and truly _gone._

It was a long moment before Aziraphale, from where he had fallen to his knees, was able to make the slow crawl forward to his demon. He didn't want to touch him, not wanting the confirmation of what he already knew, but he couldn't stop himself from reaching out with both hand to hold the demon's face. "This is the worst trick you've ever pulled, Crowley," Aziraphale said, voice shaking. "And I most certainly do not appreciate it. N-Now... Now get up. You... If you don't I'll... I'll miracle your car the most vivid, most atrocious shade of pink I can find. Y...You'll despise it. So. So you'd better get up, so that I. I don't do that."

No response, not that Aziraphale expected one. He took a deep breath. It had always been more Crowley's department, but maybe - maybe if he pretended hard enough, pretended that this was just some trick, some lie, then it could become true. If he just pretended - 

"P-Playing hard m-mode I s-see. I'll j-just have t-to up the stakes then."

If he just _believed,_ then maybe - 

"You need to get up, Crowley, please, or..."

Then just maybe, Crowley would take a deep breath.

"You have to."

And he would sit up, and tell Aziraphale that it was alright.

"Or... Or I won't talk to you ever again."

It had worked then, why not now?

"And... And neither of us want that."

Any moment, now, Crowley would sit up, tell him that he was sorry for the ill-advised prank, and they would go get dinner - Aziraphale would make Crowley miracle them into the fanciest place they could find, just to make him squirm, and he knew a place right next to a rather popular church. Any minute. He just had to hold out, to believe that Crowley would be alright...

"Oh, what have they _done_ to you, Crowley?" His voice broke as he sobbed, his hands moving to rest on the demon's shoulders. "Please, this can't be happening, this can't be real! Please, Crowley, please, wake up. I can't... I can't do this without you, you thrice-damned fool, you can't leave me here, you - you can't - "

Aziraphale couldn't pretend. He wasn't Crowley, he couldn't drive a burning car from his home all the way off to an Air Force base just by believing that the car wasn't on fire, just like he couldn't bring Crowley back by believing that he wasn't gone in the first place.

Grief swamped him as his pleas fell on deaf ears. He begged Crowley to get up, to come back, to not leave him _alone,_ to no avail. Eventually, his voice broke one final time. His broken cries for the other turned into harsh sobs as he clung to the demon's lifeless form. This couldn't be happening, but it was. Any other day, Aziraphale would complain about the stain on his carpet, about the pooling blood that was now seeping into the knees of his pristine pants, coloring his hands and staining the cuffs of his sleeves.

"Crowley, please..." The angel whispered. "Please, what will I ever do without you? I... I just _can't_ , Crowley, I... Please..."

"Angel..."

Aziraphale jerked away from the body, staring down at it with wide eyes, but it hadn't moved. Seemingly out of nowhere, arms wrapped tightly around him from behind. Pulling him away from the demon's corpse. Aziraphale struggled for a moment, exclaiming, "What are you _doing?_ Let me g - " only to break off when he turned and caught sight of wide, golden eyes, bright with concern and worry. "Crowley - " Aziraphale choked out, his voice barely a whisper.

"I'm here, Angel. It's okay, I've got you, I'm here." That warm voice filled his ears and made the angel sob once again.

"No, no, no - you, you were - you're _gone,_ I can't, I couldn't - " His gaze found the body and his sobs were renewed. The Crowley holding him tightened his grip, appraising the form before his slitted eyes narrowed. "Angel - Angel, look at me. Aziraphale, _look_ at me. I'm here. I'm alive."

Warm hands found the angel's damp cheeks, tilting his head so that golden eyes could meet blue. "Angel, I'm here." He pointed behind him. " _That_ isn't real." Aziraphale followed his gesture. "But... But I... I could touch - " It? You? The body? Aziraphale wasn't sure what to call it. Crowley shook his head.

"That's because it is _there,_ but it isn't _real._ It's not real, angel. I'm real. I'm real, and I'm here, talking to you." He took the angel's hand. "I'm real. _That_ isn't. Look, Angel." The demon turned Aziraphale to face the prone body, drawing another sob from him. "I don't want - "

"I know, I know. I understand. But trust me, Angel. Look." Aziraphale did. "It isn't real. Say it, Angel, come on. This isn't real. That thing on the ground isn't real. It's not me. I'm here with you, alive. _It isn't real._ "

"It... It isn't real," Aziraphale managed. Crowley shook his head. "You have to believe it, Angel, or it won't work. Come on. It _isn't real._ " The angel turned, burying his face in Crowley's chest. The demon allowed it, wrapping his arms around his angel again.

"It _looks_ real, Crowley," Aziraphale choked. The demon sighed. "I know it does. But it's not real. It _isn't,_ Aziraphale. We're real. The way I'm holding you is real. The floor beneath us is real. But that thing isn't real. It's a lie."

It was a long moment before Aziraphale could get himself together. He hid against Crowley, who was ever so patient with him, taking in the familiar feel and scent of him. The familiar feeling of the love directed at none other than Aziraphale himself. That feeling is what finally allowed him to shift in the demon's arms, looking at the thing on the ground. "It isn't real," he said, and the thing that had been there moments before melted away into nothing, not even leaving a stain.

Crowley tightened his grip. "I'm proud of you, angel," he murmured, pressing a kiss into Aziraphale's soft hair.

"Crowley," the angel whispered, burying his face in Crowley's chest and sobbing against him. "Crowley, I - I thought you were gone, I didn't know what to do, I..." He paused, taking a shuddering breath, but then asked softly, "Why are you here? I - Not that I am not immensely grateful to see you, but..."

"I had a feeling that you needed me," Crowley responded with a small smirk. "I've learned by this point not to question those little nudges." The demon got to his feet, gently pulling the angel with him. "What was that, angel? Do you know?"

"No... No, I don't... I was - I was standing there, and then it just... Appeared. I thought that..." He trailed off, and Crowley didn't prompt him to continue. He knew exactly what Aziraphale had thought, because he would think that same thing if Aziraphale's body had appeared in his home. He wouldn't put it past either side to kill one to make the other suffer. Honestly, the only thing that would drag out that sort of thing would be both sides demanding that the one that had turned on their own suffer more.

He hoped they never figured it out, because he didn't think he or Aziraphale could stand to lose one another. The thought of being without his angel hurt like being filled with shards of glass, and he had already seen the broken look on Aziraphale's face when he thought he had lost him.

Crowley turned his attention to the desk and noticed the necklace. It was a pretty old thing, a silver chain with a small sphere of black flecked with blue and white, held in place by delicate silver. He could feel a faint flicker of power from it, small but noticeable. He allowed one arm to leave his angel (the other still wrapped tightly around his shoulders) to pick it up.

It was pretty easy to figure out what it was when Aziraphale appeared in almost the exact same way Crowley had, though unlike Crowley, Aziraphale's wings were out and spread across the floor.

They were as black as midnight.

Aziraphale, still held tightly, looked at the copy of himself in shock. "What...?" Crowley returned his gaze to the necklace. "Where did you get this, angel?"

"I found it in an old shop. I thought it was interesting and wanted to know what the power coming from it was. Do you know?"

Crowley shrugged. "It's got some sort of human enchantment on it. It's old, faded. I've seen it before, a long time ago. I don't know if this it the same thing, but as for what it does..." Well. Here's where it potentially got awkward. Aziraphale could see the copy of himself on the floor - he kept glancing at it - so telling him what this necklace was could definitely be pretty embarrassing.

But at the same time, he deserved to know.

"It takes on the appearance of your worst fear. Back when it was at full strength, it would have made it real, but either the enchantment is too old and hasn't held up, or it was never strong enough to actually take down an angel and a demon in the first place."

Aziraphale paled. "Y...You're telling me that that... _thing_ , had it been stronger, really could have killed you? Just because I was afraid of losing you?"

"Well. Because that's what you're _most_ afraid of, but, yeah." Realization spread across Aziraphale's face and he glanced at his copy once again. Crowley cleared his throat. "Anyway. We should, uh. Get rid of this thing. I don't think it will actually do any more than put up an illusion, but just in case..."

Aziraphale nodded, looking up at Crowley. There was a soft concern there, and the angel asked gently, "Are you alright?"

"What? Why wouldn't I be?"

"You said... That it shows you your greatest fear." Shit. "And you saw how I reacted to mine." Oh. Crowley got it, then. The angel thought he was holding back for Aziraphale's sake, and was offering an out for his feelings.

Fuckin' angels. ...Heh.

"No need to worry about me, Angel," the demon said, giving Aziraphale a soft smile. The arm that had been holding his angel moved so his hand could rest on Aziraphale's cheek. "I have you right in front of me. Nothing would ever dare hurt you while I'm around. I know that this isn't real." The copy melted away and Crowley dropped the necklace onto the floor. He placed his heel over it, and after a nod from Aziraphale, crushed the stone. The faint power that had imbued it faded completely, and Aziraphale gave a smile, reaching up to cover the hand on his cheek with his own.

"I'm here," he said softly, and Crowley blinked, then sighed and pulled his angel against him, hugging him tightly to reassure himself now that it was over. "I know you are, angel. I'm here too. It'll take more than heaven and hell to take me away from you."

Aziraphale sighed and his arms slid tightly around the other. "I know," he said softly, "The feeling is mutual." Crowley smiled and pulled away, ruffling Aziraphale's hair. "Come on, Angel. I have a feeling that if we leave now we can beat traffic over to that nice little restaurant that just opened up." Aziraphale smiled. "Well let's get going, then." He took Crowley's hand and Crowley laced their fingers together. His hand was warm, alive. He was there, and nothing would take them from each other.

They would be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> w hee z e


End file.
